I do this always, and even for my spliff ends (we call the cardboard bit a roach here) in a pocket ash tray.

It really bugs me when I find a rather nice smoke spot, lovely nature area, and upon my third or fourth visit there is just rubbish everywhere.

Folks have cleaned the areas, only to find them in such a state in practically no time at all.

I wish people would take more responsibility with their rubbish. It literally takes only one pocket, or a small otherwise unused compartment in my bag. It’s ridiculously easy to not litter!!

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Prostitution.

I am not saying it’s the ideal career choice for most people, however it isn’t something ruined by AI…
And there are opportunities to progress into a madam or pimp. Plus you get a funky hat with a feather, I’m unsure how this process goes though (I would imagine there must be some sort of application process for the hat).

I got an invite for Gmail from a Yahoo Messenger chatroom, about two months or so after the service opened up as an invite only email service.

I remember it very well. Some kid comes in, and says that his mother traded 12 lbs of peanut brittle on a website called Gmail Swap (where people were trading random things for Gmail invites, instead of money) for a bunch of invites, however because she grounded him he thought of enacting childish revenge by just freely giving 12 invites to anyone who asked.

The Internet was wild.

It’s a little from column A, a little from column B (dossiers of both held together by a rather flimsy paperclip).

This was a very, very entertaining read thank you lol.

Poor mum getting a fright from the weak reception.

I imagine the servers would have been shut down some time ago, if not for the confusion.

“So are we shutting down that game? What’s the name?”
“Let it Die.”
“Alright.”
“What are you doing?!”
“Shutting down the servers…?”
“Why?”
“… You said let it die!”
“I didn’t! I said it’s Let it Die not let it die!!”
“What?!”

I like to encourage a silly sort of reaction, rather than a hostile one.

I was playing Rocket League the other day, and said that the enemy team’s mother buys off-brand baked beans. I got called a doughnut.

If someone is being angry, try calling them various fruit. Then again some people are just straight up chikoos.

Even when I say I’m growing strawberries, people think I’m growing cannabis.
I mean, I’m not growing strawberries and most definitely growing cannabis, however it’s the insinuation!

One of my mates goes with his wife and kids to forage for morel mushrooms, it’s a big family activity and they love it.
I haven’t tried Morel mushrooms though, would like to give them a go with what he has said about them (we are separated by ocean or I would ask him, at the right time of year).

It’s against most rules for advocating against certain things, however for educational purposes only I would suggest a slow roast with a barbeque glaze, and if you’d like to put in some effort an apple and sage stuffing could really help bring some flavours out (be sure to remove that giant stick they all have up their arse first, though).

No stress at all. You can never be too sure these days, I suppose.

I think someone downvoted you, it was not me though I just wanted to mention.

I apologise if I provided that impression, it wasn’t my intention. The truth is I try to be honest at times, and when I get stoned I tend to not think before I type and so sometimes the words I use are the immediate ones I’m finding relevant to use (I hope that makes sense, I took an edible some time ago and it’s hitting me a bit hard and I’m doing my best to explain). This is also combined with another thing, the reason why perhaps the words I found relevant to use to describe my experience is due to the biological male part being on my mind quite a lot lately.

To clarify, as you did ask: in recent times, at 37 years of age, I have come to realise that I have always been non-binary since as far as I can remember. From the age of 4 I would question, with great confusion, the divide between male and female gender norms and, fast forward to today, I truly don’t think I ever felt as though I belonged in either group.
It’s rather difficult for me to describe, however I never quite felt as though my thoughts, my inner feelings, ever reflected those of either male nor female yet somewhere wobbling in-between. Therefore, whilst I am biologically male and quite accepting of this, I do not quite feel as though I can call myself a man. This has been on my mind quite a lot lately, partly as this realisation has been rather freeing in some ways and I am slowly coming to accept myself for who I am, which I am trying to get some confidence about. I have also been thinking a lot about my life, and my behaviours over the years, etc.

I hope this answers your question. Please let me know if I left anything out.

I’m a biological man, who didn’t start dating women until his 20s.
I was into guys first, and then later I began understanding my pansexuality in regards to it all. Perhaps just by coincidence I was around the guys who I’d be attracted to, rather than girls when growing up.

My last few relationships have been with women, however I wouldn’t class myself as straight. Ever. If anything one of my exes used to love putting makeup on me and she was happy that she could practise contouring on me.

People are complicated. What goes on inside is sometimes a battlefield of anguish, which takes time to consider and overcome.

(I’m agreeing with your comment, just thought of adding my experience alongside)

… Did it give good advice, though?

Silicone can be expensive, and I have a Lidl just down the road.

You haven’t met my ex, it seems.

This was my issue with them, back in the day. I loved the sound (minus the leaking), however they were always getting caught in my hair.

If you have a song stuck in your head, and it’s driving you a bit mad: listen to it. Something about your mind trying to fill things in (it’s been many years since I’ve read this bit of advice, and unsure entirely on why).

You can just use your teeth for that, it provides antioxidants or something. Starts to taste a bit funny after subsequent peelings, though.

Poppers is what they call those little black bottles with the caps, which folks in the gay community sniff. Relaxes the bum hole.
I’ve not ever tried them myself, since I’m a top anyway, however it’s popularly known around gay pubs and the like.